


F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S. – Project Runaway Runway

by Jaune_Chat



Series: F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S. [5]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fashion & Couture, Gen, Humor, sentient clothing, spoilers for doctor strange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:59:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaune_Chat/pseuds/Jaune_Chat
Summary: When the newest adjunct member of the Avengers Initiative pays a reluctant visit to F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S., he has some negotiation to do about his new fashions!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This does contain some spoilers for the Doctor Strange movie.

“…And I don’t see why it’s necessary at all.”

Vera’s ears perked up at the sound of the voice from the hallway. That was definitely a new voice, and from the file that had come across all of their computers today, it could only be one particular new person.

“Because I would see you well-protected in the travails that await us. And you know, far better than most, what the dangers will be.”

Thor’s rumbling accent preceded him, and Harold quickly dropped a handful of chocolate-covered espresso beans into Jay’s coffee, just to keep him focused.

Thor strode into F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S.’ workshop, the new guy at his side, tall, dark-haired, Tony Stark-esque facial hair, wearing clothes that were probably current about five hundred years ago, on the opposite side of the planet.

He had a great cloak though. High collar, excellent craftsmanship, rippling in a non-existent breeze.

Grace made a small nod, echoed by the others: he was more than workable.

“Ah, my fashionable friends. This is my new comrade, the Doctor Steven Strange, a sorcerer. He watches over realms unseen and aids in guarding Earth from mystical threats, and he is in dire need of your talents to protect him. I shall remain outside, should you have need of me,” Thor said, bowing to all of them in a courtly manner than made Grace swoon just a bit. The modern Earth clothing (curated by F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S.) didn’t detract from his princely bearing at all.

“Really, Thor, this is beyond pointless,” Doctor Strange said, trying to take a step back towards the door, but getting hung up on his cloak before he could go.

“Dire need,” Thor intoned gravely, and swept out, shutting the door behind him.

Doctor Strange turned towards Grace, Vera, Harold, and Jay, sighing. “I can make my own protections, really. I swear once Thor gets an idea in his head you’d need his hammer to get it struck loose again.”

With a few gestures, elaborate shields of light spun into existence around his hands.

“Hey, that’s kind of like Wanda’s, but smaller!” Harold said with a grin.

The shields sputtered and blinked out as Doctor Strange stared at them all with a hint of dismay.

“Ah…”

“Don’t worry, we’re super-good at this,” Jay promised. Vera could almost see his mind whirling, trying to figure out something that would complement the man’s pale eyes and killer cheekbones.

“We make armor for Thor and Captain America, so we’ve tested our stuff against all kinds of nastiness,” Grace pointed out.

“Well, I work in different worlds, and the threats are rarely physical-.” Doctor Strange seemed to be losing every vestige in wind he’d had in his sails.

Vera tapped two buttons on her computer, and the hologram of Doctor Strange in far less clothes appeared in the middle of the room. His eyebrows went up, but he only had a hint of a blush.

“Save it for someone who hasn’t virtually seen you in your underwear. Anyone who gets stabbed in the chest needs better protection,” she lectured. “Don’t you dare pull an Agent Barton on us!”

“I will admit, that was a foolish fight, and I am far more adept at protecting myself as of late-.” He started to make a swirling gesture with one hand, then looked down at his fingers when nothing happened. “Thor!” he roared, turning to the doorway. “Where is my sling ring?!”

Doctor Strange tried to stomp out, but his cloak held him back. Literally. It jerked him to a halt and wouldn’t let him leave. He stopped and turned his glare on his collar. “Don’t start again!”

“Ooo, it’s alive? That’s so cool!” Harold said, running up, hands hovering over the surface of the material, not quite daring to touch.

“Somewhat, artifacts tend to gain a form of sentience… Which clearly no one cares about but me,” Doctor Strange said, as the cloak laid a fold of itself in Harold’s hands, patting them in reassurance. Vera thought Strange looked oddly jealous.

“We care!” Jay said. He started sketching quickly, peering and walking around Doctor Strange as his cloak cheerfully held him hostage in F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S.’ workshop. “’Specially because it looks like she’s going to be the centerpiece of whatever we end up making.”

“’She?!’”

“She looks like a she,” Grace said firmly, holding up swatches of fabric, looking over at Vera.

“I’m thinking we can stick with the general era and geographical area, but definitely have to work some more defensive pieces in there,” Vera was saying. “Maybe switch up the color a bit. The dark blue works, but we can definitely get some variation in there.”

Strange sighed extravagantly. “If I must submit to this sartorial ambush, could I at least request a few modern pieces? These ones here are comfortable, but if I end up having to stroll the real-world streets I wouldn’t mind a few less people wondering if I missed Comic-Con.”

Vera shrugged and pulled some more modern sample pieces off of the rack, holding them up. “Hmm, possible…”

“Easy enough to do some good suitcoats and basic shirts for a start. Let me take a look at-,” Grace began, and then yelped as the cloak swatted them out of Vera’s hands and knocked them to the floor. Then it gently tapped several more swatches Grace was holding. “Eep?” she said belatedly.

“I think the lady just vetoed the modern suit,” Harold said.

Doctor Strange closed his eyes and made a noise like pain. “Why does everything have a mind of its own?”

“I’m going to assume that’s rhetorical. Time to strip!” Jay said cheerfully, as Vera and Grace went to go dig out what seemed to be the approved fabrics.

“You clearly have my scans, and apparently my input, not that it seems to matter, so-. Hey!” Doctor Strange got into a brief but ultimately futile wrestling match with his cloak, ending up four-fifths nude in the middle of the workshop, the rest of his clothes chucked to F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S. to check the patterns. Everyone was trying desperately to stifle their laughter. He glared at all and sundry, including, if possible, the air. “Does Thor have to put up with this?”

“Uh…” Jay said, suddenly struck dumb, mouth gaping open a little

“We don’t have to tell Thor to take off his clothes,” Vera said, dropping a load of fabric on a table and fanning her face.

“The man had zero shame. Like, possibly even negative shame. Even more so than Mr. Stark,” Grace explained, dropping another armful of bolts.

That actually made Doctor Strange look thoughtful. “I was not entirely certain that was possible.”

“But you know what is possible? Having clothes people can’t stab you through!” Grace said, as her and Jay descended on him with tape measures.

\--

Outside F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S.’ workshop, the Cloak of Levitation drifted out, hanging in the air next to Thor.

“And has your brother-in-arms been bested for his own good?” Thor asked. 

The Cloak gave a shrug, the shoulders shaking as if laughing.

“I rather thought so. It will be good if you can concentrate on more unexpected threats, and leave the mundane violence to be thwarted by the skills of F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S.”

The Cloak gave a little bow.

“Think nothing of it. Mjölnir insisted on making certain that you knew the option was available.”

The Cloak’s hem lifted up, as if cupping around an ear to hear better.

“Ah, I think the yelling and protesting has stopped. Best to go make certain no blood was shed.”

The Cloak shimmied, as if giggling, and swept back into the workshop.

\--

“…And see, no more stabbity-stabbity!” Grace was saying, as Harold got the last of the new creases down pat. Jay was putting the last of the new wardrobe in a trunk while Vera was attaching the care instructions right on top.

“Marvelous, wonderful, I shall look like a very invulnerable Tibetan hermit forever,” Doctor Strange said, shrugging to get used to the slightly heavier weight of his new outfit, not entirely hiding his pleasure. The cloak swept around his shoulders and smacked him lightly on the cheek. He amended his statement. “But I’ll be entirely unstabbed, thank you.” He glared at his cloak again, and it settled down quietly around his shoulders. With a twist of his wrist, lines of light levitated the trunk and it soared out of the room before him.

Just before he was entirely out the door, the cloak reached back to slap the palms of F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S. in a well-deserved high-five.


End file.
